The singularity of the circumstance struck her, and she stopped
before it, wishing to remove the veil, and examine what could thus
carefully be concealed, but somewhat wanting courage. 'Holy Virgin! what
can this mean?' exclaimed Annette. 'This is surely the picture they told
me of at Venice.' 'What picture?' said Emily. 'Why a picture--a picture,' replied Annette,
hesitatingly--'but I never could make out exactly what it was about,
either.' 'Remove the veil, Annette.'
'What! I, ma'amselle!--I! not for the world!' Emily, turning round, saw
Annette's countenance grow pale. 'And pray, what have you heard of
this picture, to terrify you so, my good girl?' said she. 'Nothing,
ma'amselle: I have heard nothing, only let us find our way out.' 'Certainly: but I wish first to examine the picture; take the light,
Annette, while I lift the veil.' Annette took the light, and immediately
walked away with it, disregarding Emily's call to stay, who, not
choosing to be left alone in the dark chamber, at length followed her.
'What is the reason of this, Annette?' said Emily, when she overtook
her, 'what have you heard concerning that picture, which makes you so
unwilling to stay when I bid you?'
'I don't know what is the reason, ma'amselle, replied Annette, 'nor
any thing about the picture, only I have heard there is something very
dreadful belonging to it--and that it has been covered up in black EVER
SINCE--and that nobody has looked at it for a great many years--and it
somehow has to do with the owner of this castle before Signor Montoni
came to the possession of it--and'--'Well, Annette,' said Emily, smiling,
'I perceive it is as you say--that
you know nothing about the picture.'
'No, nothing, indeed, ma'amselle, for they made me promise never to
tell:--but'-'Well,' rejoined Emily, who observed that she was struggling between
her inclination to reveal a secret, and her apprehension for the
consequence, 'I will enquire no further'--'No, pray, ma'am, do not.' 'Lest you should tell all,' interrupted Emily. Annette blushed, and Emily smiled, and they passed on to the extremity
of this suite of apartments, and found themselves, after some further
perplexity, once more at the top of the marble stair-case, where Annette
left Emily, while she went to call one of the servants of the castle to
shew them to the chamber, for which they had been seeking.
While she was absent, Emily's thoughts returned to the picture; an
unwillingness to tamper with the integrity of a servant, had checked her
enquiries on this subject, as well as concerning some alarming hints,
which Annette had dropped respecting Montoni; though her curiosity
was entirely awakened, and she had perceived, that her questions might
easily be answered. She was now, however, inclined to go back to the
apartment and examine the picture; but the loneliness of the hour and
of the place, with the melancholy silence that reigned around her,
conspired with a certain degree of awe, excited by the mystery attending
this picture, to prevent her. She determined, however, when day-light
should have re-animated her spirits, to go thither and remove the veil.
As she leaned from the corridor, over the stair-case, and her eyes
wandered round, she again observed, with wonder, the vast strength of
the walls, now somewhat decayed, and the pillars of solid marble, that
rose from the hall, and supported the roof.